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Stalker
I could feel his gaze as I walked the halls. It didn't matter if he was in front of me or behind me he would always find a way to catch my eye. I encountered him around every corner. He would always give me a small grin and shyly look away. At the lunch line, he would stand behind me, I would shiver. I would place my order and then I heard his raspy voice order the same thing I had. He was beginning to creep me out. My likes and dislikes he began to know. I dreaded going into work because he was there too. Our shift would end at the same time. The parking lot never seemed so big in daylight but at night it seemed to stretch to infinity. We parked in the designated employee parking. In silence, I walked briskly to my car. He lurked behind me, headphones on pretending not to stalk me. I knew the truth.
Month's of the same behavior. Our lives would intertwine. Day after day. I found myself wondering what his next move would be. Was he lurking behind the bookshelves in the library? Has he found out my phone number? Would I find hundreds of email's from him? The uncertainty of where he would manifest next kept me awake and vigilant.
One day out the blue he came into my homeroom. Everyone turned to greet him. How could he be so well-liked? Was I the only one who knew the real him? His green eyes found me sitting in the back of the class. The light hit his eyes in a way that made them shine like a wizard preparing an evil spell. He wore a devilish grin for all to see. That facade of joy had them all fooled. I kept things civil and politely gave a smile and turned away.
He stayed in the class for longer than I felt comfortable with. He strode across the room and kneeled next to a girl sitting in the front. They flirted for all to see. Was he doing it on purpose so I could see? They laughed together about something, was she a part of his game? Why wasn't he looking at me? Why was I angry that he was ignoring me? He's a stalker remember, I kept telling myself over and over.
A month after that homeroom invasion by my stalker I started seeing less and less of him. Our unexpected meet up's happened less frequently. At work, he would get picked up by someone. That walk now to my car felt safer but I couldn't help feeling lonely.
One day I happened to be in the cafeteria. When I heard his raspy voice behind me, my heartbeat sped up. I could hear him breathing. Texting on his phone. Who was he texting? Why didn't he ever text me? It didn't make sense. I sat on the far end of the cafeteria. That's when I saw it. He was with that girl from my class. They sat together. He opened her drink for her. She was spoonfeeding him. That BITCH!
What was his end game? Why was I so flustered? I felt so alone. So disgusted with myself. I found myself going through all his social media. Every post, picture and bio's. I started to compare our likes and dislikes. We had so much in common, it wasn't fair. He had been stalking me for so long, why did he stop?
It was Friday afternoon. The last class of the day. The answer as to why he no longer stalked me became so clear. It was that ONE'S fault. The bell rang I bumped into his chest out the door. I got knocked down to the floor. Everyone laughed, except for him. He helped me up. His green eyes filled with love as he looked directly into mine. He asked if I was alright. I couldn't even speak. I just nodded and darted away. My heart kept racing for hours.
I needed answers to my questions. I followed him home one day after school. I kept my distance. I overheard his parent's saying that they would be gone for the weekend. He waved goodbye to them. I saw them leave l made my move. I knocked on his door. He opened up and was surprised to see me. We chatted for a while. I had gotten answers to my question. Not the ones I wanted but I got them. He was never stalking me. He never liked me. Was I the delusional one? No! It was him. He didn't want to accept reality.
On that Sunday I went back to his house. I needed him to come to terms with the truth. I knocked on the door. In that same raspy voice, he said to come in. I sat down on his couch. He sat on his recliner looking away from me. I asked him to not ignore me. I went over to him and turned him around. His eyes were wide open but looked past me. No longer did they shine. I asked him if his heart was beating as fast as mine. He didn't respond. I put my ear to his chest. Nothing. I touched his face with my cheek, it was cold. He was dead. How?
Then like a surge of electricity, a headache hit me. I remembered what happened on Friday. He laughed at me. When he had his back turned to me I hit him in the back of the head with a lamp. I went into his kitchen, got a knife and stabbed him until he stopped breathing.
I realize now that he hadn't been a stalker, he was my target. My infatuation with him muddled my sanity. My questions, my doubts had all been my attempt at trying to figure out what my prey would be feeling.
© Carlos Lozano lazydracoXIII
Month's of the same behavior. Our lives would intertwine. Day after day. I found myself wondering what his next move would be. Was he lurking behind the bookshelves in the library? Has he found out my phone number? Would I find hundreds of email's from him? The uncertainty of where he would manifest next kept me awake and vigilant.
One day out the blue he came into my homeroom. Everyone turned to greet him. How could he be so well-liked? Was I the only one who knew the real him? His green eyes found me sitting in the back of the class. The light hit his eyes in a way that made them shine like a wizard preparing an evil spell. He wore a devilish grin for all to see. That facade of joy had them all fooled. I kept things civil and politely gave a smile and turned away.
He stayed in the class for longer than I felt comfortable with. He strode across the room and kneeled next to a girl sitting in the front. They flirted for all to see. Was he doing it on purpose so I could see? They laughed together about something, was she a part of his game? Why wasn't he looking at me? Why was I angry that he was ignoring me? He's a stalker remember, I kept telling myself over and over.
A month after that homeroom invasion by my stalker I started seeing less and less of him. Our unexpected meet up's happened less frequently. At work, he would get picked up by someone. That walk now to my car felt safer but I couldn't help feeling lonely.
One day I happened to be in the cafeteria. When I heard his raspy voice behind me, my heartbeat sped up. I could hear him breathing. Texting on his phone. Who was he texting? Why didn't he ever text me? It didn't make sense. I sat on the far end of the cafeteria. That's when I saw it. He was with that girl from my class. They sat together. He opened her drink for her. She was spoonfeeding him. That BITCH!
What was his end game? Why was I so flustered? I felt so alone. So disgusted with myself. I found myself going through all his social media. Every post, picture and bio's. I started to compare our likes and dislikes. We had so much in common, it wasn't fair. He had been stalking me for so long, why did he stop?
It was Friday afternoon. The last class of the day. The answer as to why he no longer stalked me became so clear. It was that ONE'S fault. The bell rang I bumped into his chest out the door. I got knocked down to the floor. Everyone laughed, except for him. He helped me up. His green eyes filled with love as he looked directly into mine. He asked if I was alright. I couldn't even speak. I just nodded and darted away. My heart kept racing for hours.
I needed answers to my questions. I followed him home one day after school. I kept my distance. I overheard his parent's saying that they would be gone for the weekend. He waved goodbye to them. I saw them leave l made my move. I knocked on his door. He opened up and was surprised to see me. We chatted for a while. I had gotten answers to my question. Not the ones I wanted but I got them. He was never stalking me. He never liked me. Was I the delusional one? No! It was him. He didn't want to accept reality.
On that Sunday I went back to his house. I needed him to come to terms with the truth. I knocked on the door. In that same raspy voice, he said to come in. I sat down on his couch. He sat on his recliner looking away from me. I asked him to not ignore me. I went over to him and turned him around. His eyes were wide open but looked past me. No longer did they shine. I asked him if his heart was beating as fast as mine. He didn't respond. I put my ear to his chest. Nothing. I touched his face with my cheek, it was cold. He was dead. How?
Then like a surge of electricity, a headache hit me. I remembered what happened on Friday. He laughed at me. When he had his back turned to me I hit him in the back of the head with a lamp. I went into his kitchen, got a knife and stabbed him until he stopped breathing.
I realize now that he hadn't been a stalker, he was my target. My infatuation with him muddled my sanity. My questions, my doubts had all been my attempt at trying to figure out what my prey would be feeling.
© Carlos Lozano lazydracoXIII
